"You thank Heaven for the escape of the man who did his best to get your child's neck twisted. The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. Lost from all protection, all her family dead—as are mine.
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